


Harbingers - Khadgar's Destiny

by Doitsuki



Category: Warcraft - All Media Types, World of Warcraft
Genre: #khadgar NO, Altered Mental States, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Animal Transformation, Arcane - Freeform, Burning Legion - Freeform, Character Development, Character Study, Dalaran, Dark!Khadgar, Demons, Elementals, Gaslighting, Gen, Gore, Horror, Karazhan, Legion - Freeform, Loneliness, M/M, Madness, Magic, Manipulation, Mindfuck, Multi, Original Character(s), Other, Quests, Rescue Missions, Spooky, Teleportation, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, Violence, Visions, War, because reasons, dominant khadgar, illidari - Freeform, kirin tor, knowledge is power and oh boi we fucked up, meetings, raven boi, standard legion fare tbh, voices
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-18
Updated: 2016-09-19
Packaged: 2018-08-15 20:35:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8071861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Doitsuki/pseuds/Doitsuki
Summary: Alternate imagining of Khadgar's Harbingers video - what if he accepted Medivh's offer and took on the powers of a Guardian?Loosely follows the Legion storyline. Used my player character for the Champion also ;D really this is just exploring how Khadgar might've developed with the raw power contained in Medivh's tome. And this Medivh wasn't a dreadlord, oh, no. He was something far greater...





	1. Knowledge is Power

Khadgar had not wanted to come back to Karazhan, not like this, desperate for knowledge to fight the Burning Legion with when he didn’t even know what he was looking for. Archmage Modera’s voice echoed in the back of his mind – _we need to teleport Dalaran **now** , there’s no time for you to be going off who knows where…_ The Kirin Tor had already discovered the crucial nature of the five Pillars of Creation, the only things that could be of significant use in Azeroth’s defence. But that wasn’t good enough for Khadgar. It fell upon him to keep the world safe while the Pillars were being found, and without some truly ancient knowledge, power or weapon, he was sure he would fail. So was everyone else. He had heard the rumours, the whispers, learnt by snooping around as he did that some folk thought him _incompetent_. Unable to look after himself. Mad, even, going on about his plans as if they were mere whims and not carefully thought out ideas. Khadgar stormed through Karazhan, the heaviness of dormant magic weighing upon his shoulders, seeping into his very steps.

_‘I will save this world at all costs. No matter what they say or think about me.’_

A whisper came from the nearest bookshelf, coated in silky spiderwebs and a thick layer of dust.

_“Why, Khadgar? They do not stand with you. They do not respect you. They expect your protection and offer nothing in return. Why, then, must you save them?This is not merely about the citizens of Azeroth, is it…”_

Khadgar froze, slamming the base of Atiesh down to flood the room with light. The clinging shadows hissed and curled away.

“Show yourself!”

Deep, rich laughter reached Khadgar’s ears. It echoed from every single surface and was almost deafening. Then there was a whoosh and as Khadgar turned, he came face to face with an echo of the one man he never thought he’d see again.

“Medivh?!”

Medivh smiled, draped in his old, feathered cloak that Khadgar remembered so well, Light, he could even remember the feel of the cloth, the scent of the one who wore it…

“My apprentice returns.” The ghostly Magus solidified, trails of blue magic wafting from his shoulders and hands. “It is good to see you again, Young Trust.”

Khadgar’s breath hitched at the sound of his old, favoured pet name. He gripped Atiesh, brows drawn together and face tense.

“Medivh? How?”

Medivh’s smile saddened, and he drew slender fingers through his neat little beard. “My spirit is bound to this tower.”

“Yes, of course…” Khadgar murmured as if chiding himself on overlooking something so obvious. He stared into his former Master’s eyes, a pleading, liquid expression deep within. “Medivh... there is so much I need.”

A smirk twitched at Medivh’s lips only for a fraction of a second. Then it was gone, and warm yet distant compassion spread across his face.

“You look terrible, my apprentice. Why have you come here?”

“The Burning Legion invades again. I come seeking the knowledge you kept here, anything that can help me stand against them.” Khadgar’s desperation dried his throat, squeezing until he had to gulp and regain control of himself. Why did he feel like falling to his knees…?

Medivh sighed. “Defeating the Legion this time will take more than some spell, I'm afraid. You came seeking knowledge, but what you need is a weapon.”

Khadgar blinked, now whispering. “I don't understand…”

“You defeated me when I was consumed by fel madness. But you never took the next step towards your destiny. It is time Azeroth had a guardian once again.” Medivh folded his hands behind his back and strode to the stained glass window across the room, and Khadgar watched black swirls of inky smoke follow him. The mirror beside the window showed only Khadgar’s reflection, but he did not notice. His eyes were fixed on Medivh.

“A guardian? After your failings, it was decided that none could resist the temptation of such power. We don't need a guardian, Medivh.” Khadgar heard how defensive he sounded and shriveled into himself just a tad, bringing his left hand to grasp at his right shoulder. It was so _cold_ in here…

Suddenly Medivh turned, dark anger flashing in his deep green eyes.

“Then, I ask again, why are you here? If not a Guardian, if not you, then who can stop the approaching storm? If you cannot embrace your fate, then all you have accomplished, all you have sacrificed, will have been for nothing.” Medivh hissed and slashed across the mirror with a bright arcane spark. Slowly, as Khadgar’s eyes were drawn into his own reflection, he saw fire. Smoke. Dalaran, falling from the sky. Those he strove to protect screaming in pain and terror. But it only unsettled him – surely, it was mere supposition, it could not be the truth…

Khadgar’s lips moved without thought to restrain them. “Even if I said yes, none now remain to bestow the powers of a Guardian upon me.”

Medivh clicked his tongue. “I remain.” He reached into the wide, shimmering blue window and his hands passed right through it, retrieving a red and gold book from what looked like the Nether itself. “I knew this day would come. Before my death, I imbued this tome with an echo of my essence. Open it… absorb its energies as your own.”

Khadgar stared at the book, into the bejeweled yellow eye of the raven on the cover. “No, I cannot… I should not…”

Medivh curled around Khadgar’s shoulder, pressing against his apprentice’s stiff back. One hand came to gently stroke Khadgar’s clenched jaw.

“It is my gift to you, Young Trust… the last I could ever give.” Silence. Khadgar’s uncertainty filled the room with wavering, mysterious energies. Medivh spoke again, his voice deep and silky. “The fate of Azeroth rests in your hands. Accept your desires… Show the Legion the true might of a Guardian.” Visions and feelings melded into a seeping force that coiled through Khadgar’s head. There in his mind’s eye he saw himself upon a great cliff, overlooking legions of, well, Legion forces. Demons of all shapes and sizes (most thrice as tall as the statues in Stormwind) waited for an unseen signal. Khadgar wore his Master’s cloak and tasted absolute power as he raised Atiesh and decimated the ranks of Dreadlords, Wrathguards and Imps. And he knew _joy_.

Medivh purred into his ear, his hand stroking along Khadgar’s neck to the collar he wore. “Be honest with yourself, if not with me. You know you are destined for this.”

Khadgar tilted his head back, resting it on Medivh’s shoulder. “Oh, it is true, I have thought about becoming a Guardian _every day_. Even now.. I desire it.” Medivh tugged on the collar just a little, causing Khadgar to exhale as pressure came and went by his throat.

“Good…” Medivh whispered. “What more?”

“I've yearned for the Legion to cringe before the fury I would unleash.” Khadgar opened his eyes, and their bright blue glow enveloped the tome, bringing it so close he could almost reach for it. Medivh’s lips at his ear curved into a smile that Khadgar could not see. But he knew his Master was proud, for he had already made his decision. “And that is why I will accept your offer.” Khadgar lurched forwards as if about to pole vault out the window, and leaning on Atiesh he closed his gloved fingers around the tome. It suddenly opened flat in his palm with a _shwoop_ , and turquoise light exploded into his face. It washed over him, eradicated Medivh’s touch upon his skin, and invigorated his very being with absolute power. Arcane power. Elemental power. And something else that was so miniscule it was drowned out by the rest. Khadgar’s chest was thrust forth, his arms thrown back, and he opened his mouth in a silent scream. His eyes burned, hell, his entire _body_ burned and it was too much, far too much, until it dropped him to the floor and left him gasping for breath. Shivering, Khadgar stared at the floor with wide eyes. And he could _see_. Ley lines, fragments of energy, the remnants of souls who had lived and died – he shut his eyes. Still he saw, sensed, felt the rawness of existence and the vastness of the cosmos. Slow, deep breaths drew in the power of Karazhan, infusing his skin, his blood, every one of his cells. With every exhale he felt not an ebb away but an internalizing of the strength he now possessed. His mind, awash with confusion, whirled in a desperate attempt to grasp all the things he could now do. He knelt there for hours, drinking in the knowledge that floated to him from books, times and worlds he hadn’t even touched.

Until now.

 

~

 

Khadgar had been in Karazhan for eight hours and chose this moment to rise, turning to see a pile of clothing on the ground. He set the tome aside – it floated in the air by his subconscious thought- and picked up the fabric. It was Medivh’s dark red cloak, the hood with black feathers spreading from its seams and spilling over where shoulders would support them. Khadgar reverently clasped the cloak around his neck and looked at himself in the mirror. Then he pulled the hood up, and his eyes glowed from within the new shadow.

 _“Guardian.”_ said a voice, echoing in the stern yet sultry tone of his dead Master. _“They wait.”_

 _‘I will go.’_ Khadgar plucked the tome out of the air, strode through Karazhan and whistled for the gryphon who waited down below. In a flurry of wings, the majestic creature approached Khadgar who jumped onto its back and flew all the way to Dalaran, returning the gryphon to its home. The Flight Master took one look at Khadgar and fainted. Khadgar did not register concern. He had a job to do, and made his way to the aptly named Chamber of the Guardian, where the members of the Kirin Tor had been waiting for him since his departure.

“It’s about time!” Archmage Modera sensed Khadgar’s presence before seeing him but gasped just like everyone else when he entered the room.

“Hello, everyone. Sorry I’m late!” Khadgar flashed his usual bright smile and went to stand between Modera and Karlain. “Now then, shall we get that teleport underway?”

The entire Council of Six stared at him. Then, Archmage Vargoth cleared his throat.

“A…ahem… say, Khadgar, don’t you look a little… different?”

“What, this?” Khadgar threw back the hood of his robes and the brilliance of his bright blue eyes caused many squints and face-turns. “Just something I picked up in Karazhan.” He slipped the tome in his left hand into his robes, and then drew a purple sigil in the air with Atiesh. “Now, I’m ready to take the fight to the Legion on the Broken Isles. Who’s with me?”

Silence. Then, Kalecgos shook his head with a smile. “We’ll discuss things later. For now… we’ve work to do. Everyone!” He began channeling energy into the sigil which Khadgar had placed in the center of the room. Modera and Karlain exchanged looks, before adding their own strength. Then, Vargoth and Ansirem joined in and everyone’s focus was on the predetermined set of co-ordinates hovering high above the Broken Isles… between the site where both Alliance and Horde fought together and the ancient Nightborne city of Suramar. In a blink, the magic consumed the floating city and teleported it across Azeroth. The Council staggered, exhausted but proud of their effort. Khadgar barely felt the energy leave his body, and leaned on Atiesh, gazing at his colleagues. After a few moments, he spoke.

“Hm. I think that went well.”

Archmage Modera, struggling to stand, gripped the nearby Vargoth by his shoulder and straightened herself up.

“Indeed…” she muttered. Her thoughts were aligned with nearly everyone else’s – rest was the number one priority before any further work could be done. She and the Council went to the Violet Citadel, dragged themselves upstairs and collapsed in their private quarters, mana utterly spent. Khadgar however walked out of the Guardian’s chamber and observed the goings-on in Dalaran. People were confused, wandering about, the magical energies in the air only now beginning to dissipate. Some folk were halfway through walls, others with their legs clipping through the pavement, crying out in shock and agony. The Kirin Tor guards were there to help them, and Khadgar trusted they would ensure order was restored soon enough.

 _‘I suppose I’ll wait until everyone is ready to decide our next move.’_ The Kirin Tor hated when he did things on his own. For the longest time he could never understand why, but now he had a feeling it was because they didn’t trust him. He, who had the name telling them to do just that. Irony aside, Khadgar went to the Violet Citadel and found a nice place to sit, high up in one of the towers. In this warm, circular room with lavender carpets and smooth cream walls, he sat on a chaise and read his new book. The amount of knowledge within astounded him, and he felt his eyes could not soak up the incantations quickly enough. This was one of Medivh’s spellbooks, half full of scrawled details on spells, alchemical processes, the weaknesses in certain types of demons and more. Eight hours passed and only when he noticed the sun rising outside did he think to lie down and take a nap. As he did so, he felt _free_. He had the power to defeat the Legion and do pretty much whatever he wanted. The shackles of not being good enough had begun to loosen. Now, as his eyes closed, he thought _‘Where can I test my new strength?’_

The answer came to him upon waking at midday, when he stood on the ground floor of the Violet Citadel at the foot of the stairs. The rest of the Kirin Tor turned at his arrival, and they parted to let him stand among them. Kalecgos was the first to speak.

“So, you going to tell us about your new outfit or what?”

Khadgar tilted his head to the side, the feathered cloak warming him as his Master’s presence once had.

“I found it in Karazhan. What, does it make me look odd?”

Kalecgos shook his head and was about to say something when Modera interrupted. Unusual volume and sharpness edged her voice.

“It makes you look like _Medivh_ , Khadgar. Take it off.”

Khadgar fixed her with a penetrating stare, and the easy kindness upon his face seemed like a mask more than truth. “Why?”

Unnerved, Modera held her ground. “We need you in your right mind if we’re going to discuss our first point of attack against the Legion. Not… wearing a dead man’s clothes and pretending to be the Guardian.”

“We’re in this together.” Vargoth agreed. Khadgar didn’t spare him a single glance and kept his eyes fixed on Modera, unblinking.

“With all due respect, Modera…” He tapped the base of Atiesh on the floor and white sparks flew up with trails of arcane energy shimmering in the air. “I _am_ the Guardian.”

Modera looked at him, too shocked to facepalm or discount his claim. Everyone in the room could sense it – they had done so yesterday upon first sight of Khadgar. His _power_ had changed. His magical signature, now infused with an echo of something otherworldly, held more might than all of them combined. Just by standing near him, Modera felt a suffocating weight pressing her internal organs together, filling her lungs, boiling her blood – or perhaps Khadgar was angry with her. She tore her eyes away and hoped for someone else to speak. Karlain did, taking Khadgar’s attention from her and restoring her soul to an uncompressed state. She let out a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding.

“But how?”

Khadgar had left the spellbook in his quarters, which were now warded with ten times the strength they’d been protected with before. He spread his hands, Atiesh standing up right where he’d left it.

“It was my fate. Long have I resisted, and now I stand before you ready to defend Azeroth with my life. So!” He clasped his hands together, smiling at the perplexed and awed Council of Six. “I have some ideas.”

The Kirin Tor, lower ranked Archmagi and guards alike, clustered together in the Violet Citadel to hear the Council’s discussion. Travelers and heroes peered in from the streets of Dalaran, too.

“The Tomb of Sargeras is the Legion’s gateway through which they can send demons to invade Azeroth. Already, they have defeated the Horde and Alliance armies sent to challenge them at the Broken Shore. I think we should seal the tomb to prevent any more demons coming to reinforce the Legion’s foothold on our world. Then, we get rid of those who are already here.” Khadgar spoke with surety as he did when explaining his grand, dangerous plans. “Any objections?”

“Nope, makes sense.” Kalecgos nodded. “But there are already too many demons on the Broken Shore for any faction’s armies, even combined, to defeat. Should we not search for the Pillars of Creation first, to aid in sealing the tomb?”

“Yes! That’s precisely right.” Khadgar beamed at Kalecgos, who blushed and shifted about. “The Pillars will help us seal the tomb and defeat the Burning Legion, provided we find them first. Where, then, should we start looking?”

“I can help with that.” Heads turned and bodies parted to reveal a tall, well muscled blood elf in full golden plate armour. Khadgar’s face lit up.

“Ah, there’s our Champion! Come, come. I was wondering where you’d run off to.”

“My apologies.” The Champion, one silver haired Paladin by the name of Oropher, inclined his head with respect. “I had business with the Light. The Silver Hand has received preliminary scouting reports from the Illidari, and we have taken interest in Azsuna.”

“Azsuna! Of course!” Khadgar’s mind made connections no-one else was privy to, and he strode forth to walk alongside Oropher, into the streets of Dalaran. “We’ll head there at once. Shall I fill you in on what you missed?”

“Please.” Oropher couldn’t help but look sideways at Khadgar, who was simply radiant with his own magical energy and excitement.

“We must find a way to reseal the Tomb of Sargeras.” Khadgar hushed his voice then, as many people were staring. “I have uncovered information concerning an ancient relic, which might be the key to stopping the Legion. What better place to begin our search than on the ancient elven island of Azsuna? Long ago, it was where the Highborne elves of Suramar perfected their mightiest of magics. Now it is a cursed ruin. The Illidari have established a camp on the island, but you probably already know that. As they are the only people we know in the area, that is where we will begin.” By now, the two had reached the top of Krasus’s landing, a short walk from the Violet Citadel. Khadgar pointed towards Azsuna (which Oropher could just barely see in the thick fog) with Atiesh. “Ready to take wing?”

“Uh…” Oropher hesitated. His mind was still foggy from teleporting across Azeroth to get here, and though physically capable, he did not feel entirely like himself. _‘Surely all I will be doing is killing things while Khadgar sorts the finer details out.’_ he thought. He fixed his green eyes upon the Guardian’s staff as it waved to and fro, Khadgar idling in wait for a response. “Sure.”

“Excellent. Come along, then!” Khadgar took a step back suddenly and turned his head to the left. Someone was running at top speed and came to a stop before Oropher, bowing his head. Oropher gestured for the man to rise.

“Lord Tyrosus? What’s the matter?”

“S…Sir…” Lord Tyrosus was shaking all over, his armour clinking as he gestured with one hand. “You cannot go just yet. The Broken Shore… we… we’ve discovered…” The normally stoic Paladin looked an absolute wreck. “Highlord Fordring. He’s alive.”

Oropher’s eyes widened, and he soon clasped a hand to Khadgar’s shoulder.

“Forgive me, my friend. I must go.” His body took a yellowish sheen that was warm and wholesome, enhancing the majesty of his gleaming armour. “I will return with all haste when I am able.” Oropher turned and mounted a Felbat, the nearest creature available for flight that wasn’t reserved for the Alliance. Lord Tyrosus climbed onto a gryphon, out of breath but ready to relay instructions nonetheless.

“Follow me.” And off he went.

Khadgar watched the two leave, and became aware of eyes upon him. Quickly he turned into a raven and flew off to perch himself atop one of Dalaran’s many towers. From here he could feel the wind in his feathers and be away from public sight. He sighed, a rasping caw coming from deep in his chest.

_‘The Champion is always so busy. When will he have time for me?’_


	2. Using it Wisely

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Khadgar wants to play with his new powers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you've played the mage campaign you probs should keep an open mind for original Kirin Tor content bc heck I'm making things up and using quest dialogue here. *has played DH and Paladin campaigns only* KEK

Oropher reached Khadgar in the Violet Citadel a full day later, looking weary and soul sick. On his back he carried the Ashbringer, and over his head the title _Highlord_. Khadgar could piece together what happened, and met the Champion with fondness in his eyes, gentle words in his mouth.

“I am sorry.” he murmured. Oropher nodded weakly, pursing his thin lips together.

“He is one with the Light now. I, ah…” He rubbed the back of his neck, drawing gloved fingers through his long, straight hair. His knuckles brushed against the hilt of his new sword. “I recall… you wanted us to go to Azsuna?”

Khadgar stepped forth and Oropher, the proud and mighty Paladin, actually retreated back. Khadgar frowned slightly. _‘He’s never done that before._ ’

“Yes, I do. But are you well, Champion? You look as if you could use some rest.”

Oropher mentally smacked himself for appearing weak in public and straightened up, knowing Khadgar could see right through his brave façade.

“If Azeroth requires my service, I will go. If you… need me…” He seemed unsure as he said this, voice wavering just a tad “I will go.”

“When you are ready, let me know. It doesn’t have to be today.” Khadgar said in a tone softer than the feathers on his cloak. Oropher nodded, and turned swiftly. Thoughts circled the newly named Highlord’s mind.

 _‘I could not save him. For all the blessings I have been given, I could not save him. Now, I must replace Highlord Fordring… but I do not think I can. How many times must I fail before they excommunicate me? Ai, the standards of my order will kill me before the demons do.’_ On and on he worried, all the way to his room in the Legerdemain lodge. It was informal and comfortable enough for him to have some time for himself here. He sat on the bed with his head in his hands and grieved.

Khadgar, meanwhile, was soon approached by a few magi. They were curious, two of them journalists for the Kirin Tor monthly. Khadgar observed their determined expressions and enchanted quills hovering near ensorcelled tomes and blinked.

“Yes?”

“Is it true that you now possess the powers of a Guardian?” asked the female mage in purple and gold robes. “Have you ascended the rank of Archmage?”

“Indeed, I have.” Khadgar smiled as the magi gasped, quills scribbling down his words. “I intend to protect Azeroth and vanquish the Legion no matter the cost.”

“What is the opinion of the Council?” asked someone else, eagerly gazing at Khadgar’s handsome face.

“They do not seem to believe me, and if they do, they have said little about it.” Khadgar shrugged, and flashed his most charming smile towards the mage who now blushed furiously. “Does it matter? We are united in a single cause. Minor differences in opinion mean little in the face of the threat we all face.”

“Well said.” The woman glanced at her tome and then to her red-faced friend. “Veritus, ask about the warlock.”

Veritus wrung his hands together. “Have you received any information on Gul’dan? Nobody has seen him since the retreat from the Broken Shore.”

Khadgar’s face darkened, shadows cast beneath his eyes as he gripped Atiesh tightly.

“I will not disclose anything about him. Now, run along. I have much to attend to.”

“Th-thank you, Guardian.” Veritus stammered, and dragged his companions out of the Violet Citadel. Khadgar teleported up into his own private quarters and scrunched up his face.

 _‘Gul’dan. That conniving, dark-hearted bastard! Yet again he eludes me, and ending his life is the only way I can know peace. Indeed, his shadow is long… for such a stooped little creature.’_ Anger rose within Khadgar along with the horror of knowing it would overwhelm him. Quickly he opened a window and breathed in the fresh, clean air. It was cold this high up in the Citadel’s towers and Khadgar did his best to suppress an unusually violent rage. His eyes and hands began to glow against his will, emotion manifesting in the gathering of magical energy. He’d struggled with this previously, but now it seemed so _effortless_ to call upon the arcane for a spell… it was almost happening without his knowledge.

 _‘Stop that **right now**.’ _ He turned his willpower as high as it would go, forcing down the need to blast the air into its base molecules out of sheer wrath. _‘Don’t think about Gul’dan. Don’t think about how he killed King Varian. Don’t think about how he corrupted Cordana. Don’t think about…’_ He thought about Gul’dan. He swore. And all of a sudden, lightning shot out the window and arced down beyond Dalaran, striking the Great Sea into a frenzy. ‘Fuck’ was by no means an incantation, but it was a word of expression nonetheless. Khadgar shut the window and slumped down onto his bed, the clean silver-blue sheets scrunching up in his hands.

_‘I… I can control this. This power is mine. I will master it. For Azeroth.’_

 

Azeroth, or at least its ruling bodies, held various concerns about the new Guardian. Anduin Wrynn sat at the head of a long table, in conference with all the leaders of the Alliance. Everyone was there having just attended Varian’s funeral a mere day ago, and they listened to their new King’s calm, measured voice.

“We wait for the Kirin Tor’s word on where next we should send our armies. However, we remain with the will to do as we wish. I think defending our lands here is the best course of action, and those who want to fight in the Broken Isles should be free to do so. What do you think?”

Muradin Bronzebeard drummed his fingers on the table, brows furrowed.

“There haven’t been any invasions after the whole Broken Shore thing went down. Seems the demons are tryin’ to hold the Isles, and will be leavin’ us alone.”

“I hope so.” said Malfurion, “Though many soldiers wish for vengeance and may throw themselves into combat without a care for their own lives. I believe structured regiments rather than free individuals should be sent to fight, organized based on intent.”

“Discerning intent will be difficult if I am to speak with all my soldiers in person.” said Anduin, smiling sadly. “Though half of Stormwind’s forces have died. That at least makes it a little easier.”

“Oh, my.” Tyrande raised a hand to her mouth in shock. “Please, your Majesty, do not let your thoughts stray down such a dark path.”

“You’re right.” Anduin nodded, and gentle light glowed around his head as he calmed himself with pure, holy power. Those sitting near him were also soothed. Across the table, the prophet Velen smiled quietly. Then, Malfurion spoke.

“What is to be done about the new Guardian?”

Anduin raised his brows. “The Guardian? Oh… yes, I’ve heard. Archmage Khadgar has taken up the position?”

“A new bloody Guardian! I can’t believe it!” Muradin shook his head. “You mark my words, nothing good’ll come of messin’ with those grandstandin’ magical folk.”

“And they’ve allied with the Horde, too.” said Malfurion, still salty over Ashenvale. “Lady Proudmoore wants nothing to do with them.”

“I wonder where she is…?” Anduin thought aloud, remembering how close she had been to his father. “I miss her.” As none of the Kirin Tor were available to explain things, the Alliance could only muse amongst themselves.

Anduin knew the history of his ancestors and commonly, the Guardian worked with the King of Stormwind and just about any other leader who required aid. His grandfather Llane had been good friends with the previous Guardian up until the day he died. Varian had not closely dealt with any magi other than Jaina during his life. Anduin had been the King for two days. Was he to meet with Khadgar then, and get a feel for him in private? He knew little of the man’s mind, tactics and beliefs other than the fact that he was aligned with the Kirin Tor, and neutral to both Alliance and Horde. And then… there were the history books that spoke of the brave Archmage who had stood by Turalyon’s side on Azeroth, Draenor and Outland. Khadgar had an impressive list of feats indeed. More than Anduin, anyway. The King sighed.

“We shall discuss this in further detail when the Kirin Tor emissary gets here. For now… let us take a break.”

 

~

 

Khadgar turned his head this way and that as he flew down to Azsuna, where the Illidari had set up camp. On a bat behind him was the Champion, silent in response to Khadgar’s vibrant commentary.

“All these ancient ruins, just waiting to be rediscovered! There’s so much knowledge hidden here. I can feel it.” Khadgar saw the Illidari camp in the distance and began to descend, and then he squawked in alarm.

“Look there… Naga forces! We have competition from Queen Azshara herself!”

Oropher made note of yet another sentient race he would have to slaughter.

“She must also be after the Pillar of Creation. This is unexpected.” Khadgar braced himself to land and took human form once he touched the ground. Several Illidari turned towards him, startled. Oropher dismounted and stood beside the Guardian as he inhaled his surroundings. The flat, dusty ground was spattered with blood and dark green fluid. A sandy beach covered with demons stretched beyond the Illidari camp and its fluttering banners, and the sounds of combat split the air. The tides had receded enough to let small islands and stretches of sand rise up on the beach, giving enough ground for the various forces to fight on. Beyond the beach however the natural world ended. Twisted, dark protrusions jutted from the ground and sharp, metallic looking boulders covered the black ground. Spidery veins of glowing green fel could be seen overtaking the structures and it was clear the demons had made a camp of their own here. Khadgar took note aloud.

“The Burning Legion has beaten us here, but so too have the Illidari. It looks like the demon hunters are holding their own, but just barely. Come, let’s put that weapon of yours to use. I’ll figure out our next move while you crush the Legion.”

Oropher rolled his eyes. “Of course.” It was a short walk to the leaders of the Illidari, but during that time Oropher took notice of just what was going on. Evil demonic energies thrummed in the air. Bodies lay broken and some crumbled to dust when he looked at them. But what bothered him most was the _screaming_. Demons everywhere howled and roared and the sound was like a bag of shattered glass being upended inside his head. The Illidari shrieked in agony as they threw themselves at their foes and were cut to pieces, burned alive, decapitated, mauled and eaten. Some were even torturing captured demons and it was these imprisoned ones who cried the loudest. One demon hunter was pressing a caged Wrathguard for information.

“Tell me, demon! Where is the Legion holding Illidan’s body?”

The Wrathguard writhed and wailed. “I… will… not… tell you!”

“Then taste the Scythe of Souls!” The demon hunter raised her scythe and the prisoner screamed so loudly that Oropher had to mutter a prayer under his breath to keep from collapsing at the sheer volume of it.  
“It burnsssss…. IT BURNSSSSSSSSSSS!!!”

Oropher turned away. Khadgar was tugging at his forearm, and he’d barely felt it through his thick plate vambrace. They both stood before a tall dark haired demon hunter who, like the rest of his kin, was well muscled and shirtless.

“Archmage Khadgar? Paladin? An unexpected surprise.”

Khadgar smiled wryly. “I am the Guardian now, and this is Highlord Oropher. We have come to take the edge off things around here.”

The demon hunter, one rather astonished Kayn Sunfury, raised his pointy eyebrows.

“The two of you are a welcome sight. We pushed the demons out of these ruins, but they are stronger than any we have encountered before. Your help is appreciated. If we do not crush this Legion invasion now, they will overrun Azsuna and then the rest of the Broken Isles.”

“Right.” Khadgar nodded as if coming to some conclusion in his mind, and then said, “I’m going to have a look around.” He promptly turned into a raven and flew towards the fighting.

Kayn turned to Oropher. “Speak to Jace over there if you’d like to help. The one with the purple hair.”

Oropher went at once and was promptly instructed to help reignite the Illidari’s anti-demon wards – they had been extinguished with bucketloads of demon blood. Apparently, some had gotten too close. So, Oropher dove into the fray and weaved in and out between the massive demons, heading for the wards that could be lit from below. All he had to do was press his finger to the base of the diamond shaped wards and his inner strength would give life to the protective barrier. Khadgar spotted him amongst the chaos and thought to offer some help. Taking human form and levitating ten feet off the ground, he hovered on a small sand bank away from immediate danger. The first thing he realized as he thought about casting was that his range had increased. The beach was a long stretch of bloodshed and melee but Khadgar could cast his favourite arcane meteors over a hundred yards away. The thing was… how could he control who he hit? Perhaps a projectile would be better. He gathered his strength with the slightest thought, and found it to be far greater than what he was used to. He’d just thought of an arcane missile when the spell loosed from his hand and obliterated a towering dread infernal, reducing it to a pile of rocks. He’d not even had to channel it, it had just… _happened_! And he was ready to do it again, for there was no cooldown or period of rest he needed before he could cast it once more. His gaze flicked between demons and constructs and with his left hand outstretched, Atiesh planted in the sand, he sent missiles through heads and limbs with ease.

 _‘This is awesome!’_ he thought, nearly giddy with delight. ‘ _Such power… truly, it makes me feel like a real Guardian. Fate finally smiles upon me.’_ After having destiny bullshit him for the past thirty or so years, Khadgar was ready for a change. And this was the change he needed, absolute power and confidence in himself. Although, the confidence waned as he found it difficult to stop his impulses and considerations turning into full fledged spells. Not having to think deeply about what he wanted to cast was going to take some getting used to. Khadgar tried a complex spell, one that caused a burst of arcane energy at the target location. He looked at the Dreadlord commanding the demons (who were appearing out of nowhere at an increasing rate) and pointed Atiesh at him. The Dreadlord, Mortiferous, noticed immediately and laughed.

“You cannot defeat the Legion!” he roared, and sent a swarm of Felstalkers to Khadgar. Khadgar had been preparing this spell for five seconds, as opposed to the usual ten, and when he let it loose he saw Mortiferous’s face contort in agony before he disintegrated in the arcane blaze. The clouds burst as brilliant purple and white light shot up into the sky and cleared a hole through the darkness. The demons went mad, attacking with careless bloodlust, fear and rage. Many Illidari fell, but the demons soon stopped respawning in the field of battle as they realized their leader was gone. The demons on the other side of the beach, safe in their own camp, stared. The imps were the first to run from the Illidari all glaring at them and their Wrathguard masters. The Felstalkers never had a chance to reach Khadgar, who incinerated them all with a cone of blistering flame. He wandered back to Kayn, who had Jace and Oropher by his side.

“You… killed Mortiferous and forced their retreat!” Kayn was astounded. “Guardian indeed!”

“Well, that’s what I do.” Khadgar smiled brightly and then turned to Oropher, who shakily grinned at him. “Oh, Champion! You’re not hurt, are you?”

“I am fine.” Oropher raised a hand limned with a golden glow. “The Light heals all wounds. Physical ones, anyway.”

“Good, good.” Khadgar then turned to Jace. “Is there anything more we can help you with?”

Jace nodded. “There is _one_ thing…” He gestured for Kayn to explain, as it was not his place to do so.

“Our demon hunters, Kor’vas Bloodthorn and Cyana Nightglaive took a small force of the Illidari to Faronaar.” said Kayn, sounding every bit the smart lieutenant Jace knew him to be. “Their mission was to weaken the Legion from within. I haven’t heard from them in a while. It would be best if you could find and lead them to success. Agreed?”

“Agreed.” Oropher nodded. “Guardian, will you join me?”

“Of course.” Khadgar found that he much liked his new title, and floated along in high spirits beside the Champion. He and Oropher had much history together, most of it having been spent running around Draenor collecting and killing things. Oropher still wore the ring Khadgar had made for him on his right index finger. Ah, good times. Memories aside, Khadgar drew his attention into the present. The bloodied beach where the Illidari had made their stand was long enough for him and Oropher to walk around, going to the left of where Mortiferous had fallen. They moved through the outskirts of the demons’ camp, and Khadgar let Oropher levitate too so as not to crunch grass and bones underfoot in the forest of Faronaar. Traveling among the eastern edge with water on one side and massive green spiders on the other, the two did not say much. They came to some high walled ruins and picked their way over crumbled stone blocks to find a night elven demon hunter crouching out of sight. She spoke without raising her bowed head.

“You are no demons. Friend or foe?”

“We mean no harm.” said Oropher, and squatted before the demon hunter. “Are you Kor’vas?”

Kor’vas smirked. “A friend it would seem. Kayn did not think we could handle this? He might have been right this time.”

“Perceptive, aren’t you?” Khadgar sat on a rock, dispelling his levitation so he could rest his back. “Ah…”

“Is Cyana with you?” Oropher asked softly, placing a hand upon Kor’vas’s shoulder and offering to heal her. Kor’vas shrugged him away – her Fel tainted powers did not mix well with the Light – and stood.

“The Burning Legion is sending the most powerful demons in its arsenal against us. They do not intend to lose this third war and they will stop at nothing to see to it that we are all wiped from the face of Azeroth.” Kor’vas stretched, picking up her glaives. “We will return the favor. My force wiped out the demons’ forward base here. But, an imp mother and her brood took the rest of my demon hunters hostage, including Cyana Nightglaive. We need to free the Illidari and destroy the Burning Legion.”

“Alright, then.” Oropher could tell she was focussed and not in the mood for idle discussion. He glanced to Khadgar, who seemed lost in thought. “Ahem.”

Khadgar blinked and then floated down from his position, touching the ground and straightening his back. “Let’s go.”

The three of them picked their way through the darkened forest, where dead trees creaked and groaned as they were buffeted with acrid winds. There were demons flying above and many others going about their evil deeds down below. These were the ones Kor’vas decided to target first. Khadgar was eager for an opportunity to once again test his skills and hone his self control (which had never really been the stuff of legend), and began firing bolts of arcane energy at every enemy he saw. Oropher watched him take out enemies at range until there were no demons left for the Ashbringer to slice up. Instead of being annoyed, however, the Paladin was impressed.

“Doesn’t that wear you out?” he asked, turning his gaze upon Khadgar as they walked past a floating tome. Khadgar’s eyes were on the open pages and he shook his head.

“Not at all. Hm… this is quite interesting.” He sheathed Atiesh like one would a sword, and the staff floated as if strapped to his back. Oropher resisted the urge to poke it and Kor’vas wandered up to look into the massive tome. The thing was made for demon hands, and runes were scrawled in fel ink all over the pages. Khadgar picked it up and looked at the cover.

“Tome of Fel Secrets… I wonder who would leave this lying in the open?”

“You _did_ just kill the demon guarding it.” Oropher pointed at the pile of dust Khadgar was standing in.

“Oh.” Khadgar moved out of it and casually kicked the skull by his feet aside. Closing the tome, he said, “I will read this later.”

“You sure you don’t want to give that here?” Kor’vas gestured to the book. “The Illidari could use something like that.” Then she added, “And yes, despite not having eyes, we _can_ read.”

Khadgar laughed and waved his hand in slight dismissal. “Don’t you worry about a thing. The Kirin Tor will look after this. If you’d like to borrow it later on, I’d be happy to lend it to you.”

Kor’vas frowned and said nothing. Her silence was broken by a sudden gasp, and she sprinted off in the direction of a large green crystal. She sliced it open with a swish of her glaives and something fell to the ground before her. Running up to see what it was, Oropher stared as a half dead demon hunter struggled to rise. Kor’vas picked him up with one hand and shook him.

“Illidari, what happened here?”

The demon hunter’s head rolled to one side, and he groaned.

“They did… things… to me.”

“What did they do?” Kor’vas motioned for Khadgar and Oropher to stay back. The two looked at each other and let Kor’vas do what she needed to. The Illidari in her arms reached to touch her face.

“The demons promised us unimaginable power… and there was… a Warden…”

“A Warden? Who?”

“Cordana… took Nightglaive…traitor… the others… dead…” The Illidari could hardly breathe, and Khadgar noticed that a deep gash in his chest revealed broken ribs and a black hole where a lung should have been. The voice they were hearing was this man’s soul, only weak streams of air passing through his lips. He died in Kor’vas’s tight grip, and she hung her head. Minutes passed before she stood.

“Cordana will pay for this.” She turned only to see Khadgar’s magically limned form standing stiff in shock, face unreadable. “…What’s the matter with you?”

“Cordana…” Khadgar nearly dropped the tome in his hands. “Cordana Felsong… here…” Deep emotions were rising within him and he didn’t like it one bit. Now was not the time or place for memories, nor was it the best moment to sort out his long suppressed woes. His glowing eyes widened, heart speeding up as if ready to jump out of his chest and hightail it back to Draenor. And he could, what with his new powers and knowledge of time travel. He tried to gather himself, aware of eyes and fel-sensing spectral sight upon him. Thoughts that were not his own circled his head (but how could they not be, within him, he who was in control, he who was the Guardian…) and once more sounded like Medivh, hollow and dark.

_“Kill her…”_

Khadgar looked around, but saw only trees, shadows and his two companions (plus one dead body on the floor). At the edge of his sight, something black and blue flitted about, crawling closer every time he moved his eyes.

_“Kill… her… crush her skull, slit her throat, skin her face and send her in a box to Maiev…”_

Khadgar shook his head and began moving at a brisk pace away from the fallen Illidari and demon dust. Oropher ran after him, Kor’vas squinting her eyelids into thin slits.

“Guardian, are you alright?” Oropher’s loud voice reached Khadgar even when a high pitched shriek split the air. “Shit, what was that?”

“Illidari.” Kor’vas growled. “In pain. Come!” She bolted past her companions straight into a ritual circle where three Doomguards were pulling at a writhing demon hunter’s limbs. With an incoherent cry she leapt up onto the stone platform and sliced into the nearest one’s neck, severing it in a few quick slashes. Khadgar’s hands were full but he didn’t need them to cast – he sent a bolt of aggression towards one of the Doomguards and it manifested in a sheet of living flame… that was tinted with green. Khadgar did not notice immediately but Oropher did, and consecrated the ground before he roasted in his armour. The Illidari could not be saved and Kor’vas gave him a merciful death, shaking with anger. Khadgar’s head was full of that dark, echoing voice that now _praised_ him.

 _“Yes… good, very good… Use the Legion’s power against them.”_ Khadgar had done so in the past, and briefly remembered pressing a captured orc for information, with Oropher and Cordana to witness her resistance. There were too many vivid memories flooding Khadgar’s mind and he held his tome under one arm, pressing a gloved hand to his forehead.

“Ngh…!”

Oropher put a hand on Khadgar’s feathered shoulder as the Guardian bent over slightly, his breathing shallow. The Highlord looked to Kor’vas.

“He’s not well. I have to take him back to Dalaran.”

Kor’vas nodded. “I can handle things from here.” Her words suggested she was fine to do so, but her voice held what sounded like contempt. “Thank you.” And with that, she dashed off in a flurry of purple and green. Oropher shook Khadgar by the shoulder, pulling back his hood to see his eyes rolled back.

 _‘He’s possessed?!’_ Oropher had seen it before. But there was so much demonic energy around here that he could not pick out just _what_ ailed Khadgar. He pulled a round grey stone out of his inventory and squeezed it in his palm.

“Dalaran,” he growled. “Now.”

The hearthstone obeyed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> small note - Oropher the Player Character is not going to be a super important main figure, though he will feature as a companion to Khadgar and general quest-doer throughout the story. It's really hard for me to resist making him a main character lol I have s o m a n y i d e a s  
> also Khadgar/Champion is kinda canon as far as friendship goes hnngg


	3. Gaslighting the Guardian

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know how to pace anything so yeah this is progressing quickly. Khadgar's being eaten by his new power oh lawdy and it drives him to do terrible things, like the infusion of power he felt in Zangarra pushed him to torture Garona in WoD :[
> 
> guardian doing the big spookerino WATCH OUT

Khadgar was carried in two strong arms all the way to Dalaran’s one and only infirmary – First to Your Aid. Oropher set him down on one of the beds and Khadgar hunched over, looking absolutely mortified.

“What are you… doing here…?” asked Khadgar, staring at the wall. Olisarra, the nurse in charge of the place, dispelled all illusions but saw nothing. She shook her head.

“You’re seeing things, Guardian.” She knelt before him, and waved her hand back and forth. “Look here.”

Khadgar’s eyes slowly focussed on the two fingers that were held up. He narrowed his eyes.

“I can see perfectly fine.”

“And how are you feeling? Be honest, please.”

Khadgar glanced to Oropher, who stood with his gauntleted fingers clinking together as he fidgeted. Oropher’s dark brows rose in a silent plea for Khadgar to tell the truth.

Khadgar sighed. “I… hear a voice. And there is a figure, standing there.” The voice belonged to an echo of Medivh that looked all too real to Khadgar, who rubbed his eyes. “Still there.”

“A vision?” Olisarra asked. “Or did you hit your head?”

“No, I…” Khadgar’s gaze followed the almost solid seeming Magus who was outlined in blue and drifting towards him. Medivh sat on the bed and patted Khadgar’s silver hair.

_“I am here for you, Young Trust. Don’t fret. Perhaps this is a side effect of my power.”_

Khadgar felt the fingers upon his head, but noticed how the bedsheets did not crease where Medivh sat.

_‘What… what is this?Was that you, telling me to kill back in Faronaar?’_ He silently stared over his right shoulder, and Oropher saw how his eyes focussed inwards, as if observing someone. Olisarra noticed too and clicked her fingers.

“Guardian, over here, please.”

Khadgar shook his head, spellbound by the appearance of his supposedly dead Master.

_“Do not speak of me aloud. They will think you mad, an unfortunate consequence of our position. I can hear you just fine if you could spare a thought for me…”_

_‘Of course. Of course I think of you. But Medivh… how are you here?’_

Medivh gently embraced Khadgar with an arm around his waist. _“My spirit does not seem bound to Karazhan any longer. I linger where my power has gone, Young Trust. And you are my vessel. Not that tome I left behind.”_

Olisarra began casting something and Khadgar suddenly snapped his head to watch what she was doing. The magic faded at once, and she smiled.

“That got your attention. Now, mind telling me what you’re seeing?”

Khadgar’s throat was dry and he made an odd clicking sound as he prepared himself to speak. Medivh was watching him sideways, and Oropher had folded his arms, holy light causing his skin to glow very softly.

“A person. Telling me of my duties. I must attend to them.” Khadgar tried to stand but Olisarra lay a hand upon his wrist, brushing past him.

“Please, wait. What kind of duties? Is this person telling you to-”

“To protect Azeroth, of course.” Khadgar did his best to smile and tightened his grip on the thick tome he still held in one hand. Atiesh rested against the wall just next to where Oropher stood, disbelief clear on the Paladin’s face. “Please excuse me.” Khadgar blinked to the doorway and grabbed his staff. Oropher thought to physically restrain him and Olisarra was at a loss for what to do. Her moral code was hazy when it came to looking after mentally displaced figures of authority – she wanted to make sure Khadgar was well enough to walk amongst the citizens of Dalaran, but also did not wish to disrespect him by doubting his words.

“I think he’s lying.” said Oropher.

“Me too.” Olisarra replied. Khadgar was already gone, striding towards the Violet Citadel eager to research his new book. Medivh walked beside him, passing through physical matter in a most disconcerting way. Khadgar would just have to accept that the former Guardian was here to haunt him forever, or at least to offer guidance. Still… he had seen many spirits in his life, and none had been able to touch him…

_‘So! What do you think about this Tome of Fel Secrets?’_

_“Very interesting, Young Trust. Let’s go up to your quarters and have a look.”_

Khadgar was going upstairs to open the doors to the first floor of the Violet Citadel when someone called out to him.

“Khadgar!”

Khadgar turned, but a firm, cold pressure on his shoulder forced him back in the direction he’d been walking in.

_“Pay no heed to that, Guardian. You have things to do.”_

_‘Right, right.’_ Khadgar went through the doors and they swung shut behind him. At the foot of the stairs, Kalecgos stood looking lost.

“Khadgar…?”

~

A day passed. Khadgar was comfortable in his quarters with Medivh by his side, the Magus offering insight on the Tome of Fel Secrets in his old, familiar voice. Though Khadgar had secret concerns at the back of his mind regarding all this, he let himself enjoy the presence of the man he had missed for most of his life. Though he could not lay hands upon Medivh, he could observe and listen. Khadgar thrived, as he had in his younger days, on the man’s praise. Medivh often leaned on him and touseled his hair, and though Khadgar’s brow was lined with age, he was still _Young Trust._ Or _Guardian_. Medivh laughed when he titled his former apprentice thus, and Khadgar found it endearing. Khadgar had been nibbling on some conjured mana chips when a sharp hiss sounded in the back of his mind. He sat bolt upright and the cloak he had clasped around his bare upper body fell back.

“Excuse me.” Khadgar moved from Medivh’s side and concentrated on the elemental he’d posted outside his door. The thing was being attacked! His own personal servant!

_‘I will not stand for this!’_ He pulled the cloak back on and flung open the heavily warded door to see Modera and Karlain about to blast his elemental to bits.

“What are you two DOING?” he shouted, eyes flaring with arcane fury.

“Eep!” Karlain hid behind Modera who promptly turned and smacked him in the head. She then lifted both hands, crackling blue energy swimming in her palms.

“You’ve been in there long enough, Khadgar. What are you up to?” She tried to peer around him but Khadgar at his full height and strength was no skinny stick to turn sideways. He blocked her view with a shield cast over his elemental that shimmered brightly in the doorway.

“My private business is none of yours.” Khadgar’s voice was twice as harsh as Modera had ever heard it.

“Why are you so angry?” she asked, thin brows pointing straight down. “The Kirin Tor requires its leader’s presence, unless you’ve forgotten that the Burning Legion is about to shit on our doorstep.” Modera observed the tension in Khadgar’s posture, the way he was leaning forwards with his fists clenched and eyes white. She did her best to stay where she was, quietly shielding herself against the waves of energy rolling from Khadgar’s body. “Khadgar, what’s happened to you?” The former Archmage was rarely seen livid and shirtless with little more than loose breeches and a dead man’s cloak for cover. Khadgar tilted his chin up in an unusually superior manner.  
“That is _Guardian_ Khadgar to you, _Archmage_. You would do well not to bother me when I am immersed in my work. I am researching an artifact recovered from the hands of the Legion.”

“An artifact?” Karlain, with a red handprint on the balding dome of his head, crept out from behind Modera. “Can I see?”

“You may not.” Khadgar shook his head, now calm. “Not until I have finished with it.” He turned his gaze to Modera who was making her face a bit like this: >8[

“I must now tend to my servant. Thanks.” With a soft, exasperated sigh, Khadgar stepped back and closed the door. The wards went back up. Khadgar sank into the armchair he had just by the door and inspected his elemental. Medivh was nowhere to be seen, but he spoke in Khadgar’s mind to reassure him.

_“You did the right thing, Young Trust. They should not be bothering you.”_

Khadgar had a headache, and even as he reinforced his servant’s arcane body, the elemental reached out a large hand to touch his face.

“Don’t worry about me.” Khadgar smiled wearily and the elemental’s eyes mirrored his own. “Hold still. I’m going to fix you.” As he fed more energy into the construct, his headache worsened. He realized then that the sentient little thing was receiving not only strength from him, but intelligence. He withdrew his hands at once.

“Thank you, Master.” said the elemental, bowing its lavender colored head. Bright white energy shone in its eyes. Khadgar nodded, and then hauled himself up out of the armchair. He lay down in bed, covering his face with one hand.

_‘Urgh… Why do my emotions reach to such extremes without warning? Medivh, is this normal?’_

Medivh did not answer. Khadgar scrunched up his face, speaking aloud.

“Medivh?”

His servant looked at him. “There’s no-one here, Master.”

“Quiet, you…” Khadgar muttered. He lifted his head and looked around. Save the undulating surface of his arcane elemental, nothing moved. A distinct, gaping sense of loneliness filled the confused space in his mind, space that Khadgar had set aside in certainty that Medivh would always be with him. Why had he even thought so? It was not like him to jump to conclusions just because he wanted to believe them. He so _desperately_ wanted to believe his time for isolation had ended. But perhaps it was not meant to be. Dread settled over Khadgar, and he curled into a little ball. He was the Guardian now. And who on Azeroth could be lonelier than that?

He was distinctly aware of his elemental watching him, silent as ordered.

“Come here.”

It obeyed. Khadgar pulled it up onto the bed and hid his face in its back, the thick arcane energy easily coalescing around him and giving his mind the clarity it needed. That clarity however told him that he had shunned the Kirin Tor in an unexplained rage, collapsed in battle after hearing voices that took all his strength to suppress, and now lay with a construct trying to convince himself that he wasn’t the loneliest man on Azeroth.

_‘This… this is bullshit. Have I made a mistake?’_ He was aware of the Fel tome sitting innocently on his bed, open to the seventy-second page. _‘The Fel… what am I doing, researching the **Fel**? Kor’vas was right, it is better left to the Illidari…’_ He could not deny, however, the knowledge he had gleaned of the various spells demons often cast to vanquish their foes. And what was worse… he thought he could do them.

_“Is it not the Guardian’s duty to master all forms of magic?”_

Khadgar listened, frozen with eyes wide and staring through the body of his elemental.

_“You are not so weak as to shy away from the Fel, are you?”_

Khadgar sat up, and his elemental looked at him with concern. Or at least, as much concern as a thing with no facial muscles could display.

_‘Something is not right.’_

_“Young Trust? Do you doubt me?”_

Gritting his teeth, Khadgar clenched and unclenched his hands.

_‘The Fel overtook you, and you were the strongest person I had ever known. I…’_

_“You defeated me **and** the Fel, showing your own mastery over that corruptive, dark magic. Why would you fall to it now? Have faith in yourself, Guardian.”_

Khadgar blinked. That made sense. Almost… too much sense. As if it was carefully crafted logic stowed away for just this particular occasion. An errant thought passed through his mind.

_‘Was that Medivh’s logic or my own?’_ He honestly did not know. And as if to reassure him in that moment, Medivh appeared beside him. The Magus looked terribly disappointed, and scowled. Khagar reached out to touch him and as usual, his hand went through.

“Medivh… are you real?”

Medivh answered with a question of his own. “Why would I not be?”


	4. Meetings and such

Archmage Modera sipped a mana potion as she shook off the exhaustion from teleporting into Stormwind. The entire Alliance was there and she felt late, despite being on time.

“I apologise for my delay.” she said, slipping into the chair an attendant pulled out for her.

“All is well.” said Anduin, gentle blue eyes sparkling with curiosity. “Has something happened?”

“Yes.” Modera gathered her wits and the empty vial between her fingers disappeared in a puff of blue smoke. Muradin Bronzebeard eyed her with great suspicion. “But first I would like to answer any questions that you may have for me.” She addressed the whole table in her clear, confident voice. Deep inside, she was shaken. The way Velen looked at her suggested he knew this, and he folded his thin hands together as Anduin spoke.

“What’s he like?”

“Aggressive. Determined.”

“Aye, I like that.” said Malfurion, nodding his head. Modera shook hers.

“Not in a good way.”

“What?” Anduin’s young face creased up like a paper bag. “Please tell me he has not sided with the Legion.”

“Nothing of the sort… though the Kirin Tor has its doubts.” Modera sighed. “When we knew him as Archmage Khadgar, he was a fine, enthusiastic man focussed on using his magic to defend Azeroth. A bit eccentric, with solitary tendencies. But now… he spends most of his time by himself and reacts with great anger when disturbed.”

“I wouldn’t blame him.” said Tyrande. “Hasn’t he held his new position for less than a week? Surely he must be receiving all sorts of overwhelming correspondence. Perhaps he needs time to himself.”

Modera looked at Tyrande and then at the other Alliance leaders around the table. They waited for her to speak.

“That may be true. But I have known Khadgar ever since he joined the Kirin Tor and his current behaviour is unlike anything I have ever seen. He is, however, the new Guardian of Azeroth and has been fighting against the Legion with strength and surety.” She smiled just a little. “He took out a Dreadlord all by himself.”

Murmurs and glances were exchanged, and Genn Greymane raised his voice.

“I reckon we should meet him.”

Modera’s eyes widened. “That is most _definitely_ not a good ide-”

“Yeah!” Anduin agreed, leaning forwards. “When is he free? Can he come to Stormwind?”

Modera sighed. She had always felt inclined to protect Khadgar, the mage who was too powerful and idealistic for his own good. But after he had nearly blasted her into oblivion with his new, barely restrained power, she was beginning to think of leaving him to fend for himself. The Kirin Tor had looked after Khadgar for decades, ensuring he didn’t blow himself up or create dimensional rifts because of his ‘plans’. Now, it was dangerous to have him in control of the Council’s decisions and movements. Modera wanted to believe he had Azeroth’s best interests in mind, she really did. But she had more reasons to suspect him than she had fingers to count them on.

“Alright, then.” Modera said, raising both hands and gathering blue energy. “Shall I contact him now?”

“All in favour?” Anduin raised his hand, and just about everyone else did too. He nodded to Modera, who produced a scrying orb in the center of the table. It swirled with images of Dalaran’s tall towers, sparkling purple domes and crystalline windows… and then Khadgar’s hooded face came into focus. He noticed Modera first and then looked around at the entire Alliance.

“Oh, hello! Is this a meeting?”

“Indeed it is.” Anduin wished to make a nice, mature first impression and made eye contact with Khadgar. “We wish you could have joined us in person, Guardian.”

Khadgar actually pouted and Aysa, sitting beside Modera, thought it was the cutest thing she’d ever seen.

“Well, no-one told me.” Khadgar turned to Modera, looking quite hurt. “Did you forget about me while I was busy studying?”

“Of course not.” Modera glared at him. “You were… unreachable.”

“Yes, something like that.” Khadgar looked back to Anduin and grinned. As charming as ever, his suave voice filled the room. “So, your Majesty. What can I do for the Alliance?”

Anduin liked this Guardian fellow already and found himself easing into a relaxed pose. “Tell us what you know of the Burning Legion.”

“The Legion?” Khadgar’s brows shot up. “Oh, they’re a very serious threat. They are pouring out of the Tomb of Sargeras and have just about overrun the Broken Isles. The Kirin Tor is working to seal the tomb and stop the flood of demons.”

“Is there any immediate danger to our kingdoms?” asked Genn, wringing his hands beneath the table.

“I cannot say.” Khadgar thought for a few seconds. “It is still too early to gauge the Legion’s plans for our world. But I do not intend to let any of their plans come to fruition.” He closed his eyes, appearing noble and fair to the eyes of all but Modera. She couldn’t believe how _normal_ he was acting, at least in Khadgar-ish terms. “Their invasions, as you know, have retreated and they seem to be focussed on building their strength. Members of the Silver Hand, Illidari and oh, just about everyone has been fighting against them.” Khadgar looked quite pleased as he added, “And me. I’ve been sending them back to the Nether in Azsuna.”

“Well, do you need any help?” asked Gelbin, absently fiddling with a multicolored cube in his deft little hands. “Sounds like you’ve got everything under control!”

“We could always use some extra help.” Khadgar admitted. “The Kirin Tor has its hands full with protecting Dalaran and working through all the new information we’ve acquired. I have been fighting to the best of my ability, for Azeroth. So have the brave heroes and soldiers of the Alliance.”

Anduin spoke then with pride in his voice. “We will continue to send reinforcements to deal with the most pressing issue – the Tomb of Sargeras.”

Khadgar was quick to say, “Not just yet, not directly, anyway. To seal the tomb, which is surrounded by more demons than ever before, five ancient artifacts are required. I won’t bore you with the details, but explorers and adventurers would be more useful than soldiers at this point.”

Brann Bronzebeard’s face lit up. “Explorers! That’s my area of expertise. I’ll send the entire league to Dalaran at once.”

“Excellent!” Khadgar said. “You’ve all got the right idea, I’m sure. There’s no need for sending in entire armies against demons that will just come back a few days after they are slain. If you would pardon the suggestion, I think having your military forces at home would be best. I have the Broken Shore situation under control, for now.”

“Fantastic. Your service is greatly appreciated, Guardian.” said Anduin with a smile. Khadgar winked at him.

“Anything for Azeroth.” Then he was gone, and Modera slumped over the table. The art of divination was not her strongest suit and scrying for so long had worn her out. Aysa patted her on the back, and Anduin channeled some good old fashioned Holy Healing into her.

“S…so you see,” Modera mumbled quietly. “The Guardian is confident that all is well. Despite all out war taking place on the Broken Isles.”

“I trust in his judgement.” said Anduin, standing up. “We needn’t worry ourselves to death just yet.”

The meeting dispersed. Velen took a place by the nearest window and stood, serene and eternal. Modera approached him.

“He is shadowed by man’ari.” Velen could not express what he felt in any simpler words. Sadness caused his ancient face to droop a little, and he took Modera’s hand in both of his own. “Please, look after him.”

Modera looked down. “Of course.” Velen then placed a gentle blessing upon her head.

“I know it strains you. May the Light grant you the patience to endure.”

In that moment, Modera believed that she could do this. But when she returned to Dalaran six hours later, it was a different story.

Khadgar was surrounded by six Illidari, Kayn, Kor’vas, Jace, Belath and Allari. In the center of Krasus’ Landing, they were having quite an animated discussion. Jace was pointing out something on a map.

“And you see here, there’s a portal that you activate with the souls extracted from these Doomguards here…” Khadgar peered in and nodded. “Allari knows how to do it. We figured out where it leads, to this big ship floating way too high up for any of us to fly. There’s a massive shield around it, and the only way to bypass it is to use the portal. We’ve heard rumours of a Dreadlord, Inquisitor Tivos, watching over the Legion’s progress in Azsuna.”

“And you want me to kill him?”

“We’ll help!” said Kor’vas, the need for vengeance burning in her eye sockets. “This one’s twice as powerful as Mortiferous, so don’t think you can slay him alone.”

Khadgar looked at her for a long moment. “I can do anything alone.”

The Illidari were silent. Then, Khadgar laughed.

“Ah, but I’m always grateful for some help. I just don’t want any of you to die – my magic is the direct opposite of the healing kind.”

“We will work together,” said Kayn “Us Illidari distracting the demon, you wearing him down from range.”

“We fight at close distance but are good at avoiding physical blows.” Jace added. “A Dreadlord is stronger than it is fast.” He stepped back and did a sick backflip in midair.

“Nice.” Belath made a peace sign with his fingers. “You see that? That’s real agility. Don’t you worry about us, Guardian. We’ll be fine.”

“Ah, to be young and nimble.” Khadgar chuckled softly. “Alright, then. I’ll help you kill this Inquisitor Tivos. And maybe if all goes well, we can finish off some of his subordinates down below, eh?”

The Illidari cheered and made various exclamations of agreement and enthusiasm.

“Just what do you think you’re planning?” Modera’s sharp voice cut through the air like a knife. One that Khadgar felt stab into his brain. He straightened up and the Illidari before him saw darkness cover his eyes. They exchanged glances amongst themselves as Khadgar turned to look at Modera.

“Archmage Modera. Back from Stormwind, I see.”

“Yes. I just about drained myself to death scrying so you could lie to the entire Alliance.” Modera stopped two meters away from Khadgar and glared up at him, hands on her hips. “Explain yourself, _Guardian.”_

Suddenly confronted before his new Illidari allies, Khadgar was forced to save face. He did so by suppressing the fierce need to intimidate Modera with his authority and instead laughed.

“Ahaha, who do you think I am, Kil’jaeden?” Several of the Illidari tensed at that. “I told no lies, Archmage. Only reassured the King and his friends that we’ve got things under control.”

Nobody present wished to enthuse about how quickly the forces of Azeroth were dwindling when they went into combat on the Broken Isles. It took a few squadrons of soldiers to down a single Eredar, provided they weren’t incinerated within the first few seconds of battle. Kayn nodded, standing beside Khadgar.

“He’s right. Starting in Azsuna, we are crushing the Burning Legion one demon at a time.”

“Would you like to come?” asked Khadgar, tilting his head like a curious raven, eyeing Modera. “You can try to fight the Dreadlord too.”

“Try? What, you think I won’t obliterate the thing into a thousand icy pieces?”

Khadgar giggled behind his hand, and then grew serious. “I am sorry, my friend, but Dreadlords are incredibly tough. The ones I fought on Draenor were an apprentice’s work compared to these monsters.”

“Yeah.” Jace stuck his tongue out. “Don’t underestimate the Legion.”

Modera narrowed her eyes. “Hmph. When are you lot planning to go and kill this thing?”

“Tomorrow.” said Kayn.

“Tomorrow, then.” Modera nodded.

“Meet us here at nine in the morning if you haven’t had second thoughts.” Khadgar said and then turned around, dismissing Modera. She was left staring at his long, dark red cloak and all the feathers attached to it.

_‘Ugh.’_

~

The next day, after breakfast and a long drink of concentrated mana, Archmage Modera made her way to Krasus’ Landing. Khadgar and the Illidari were there, waiting for her.

“Ready?” asked Khadgar, looking like a child on Winter Veil morning. Modera nodded and mounted a Felbat just like everyone else. Except for Khadgar, who took his favoured form of a raven. He perched himself on Modera’s shoulder. “I’m surprised you came.”

“Of course I did.” Modera huffed. “Someone has to look after you.”

There it was, the very same sentiment that Khadgar hated with a passion. He did not believe Modera, or any of the Kirin Tor, actually cared for him. It was more like they considered him an inconvenience and always sent one of their own, or an ally, to watch over him. To make sure he didn’t do anything stupid. As if he were little more than a magically empowered child. Khadgar resisted the urge to bite her and flew after Kayn, who lead the group down to Azsuna. Modera got a good look at what the scouts had already told her. The demons controlled the entire western portion of the land, on the island of Faronaar. The ley-ruins in the northeast could be seen shining from up here - apparently, strange, twisted elves roamed the area and a little further south were the remnants of an old academy. One that was now full of ghosts, murlocs and Naga. After fifteen minutes of fast flight, everyone descended to the place known as the Pits of Despair. The black rock gave way in several places to form deep holes and crevices full of boiling felblight. A nasty, sour scent filled the air and Modera realised it was the Burning Legion’s cursed decay. Once, Faronaar had been beautiful. Natural. And now… Modera didn’t want to think about it, and dismounted atop a tall cliff. Kayn flexed his strong arms and gripped the handles of his warglaives tightly. He then pointed towards a few demons clustered around a four-pointed structure with empty space in the middle.

“We kill them, then the portal opens.” He turned to Khadgar. “Guardian, the honour is yours.”

“Of course.” Khadgar inclined his head, in human form and wielding Atiesh in his right hand. He raised the staff and swirled it in the air, conjuring up a ball of arcane energy. He held onto it for as long as he could, still in the process of teaching himself how to control his near limitless strength, and then unleashed it. It flew so fast that not even spectral sight could detect it and a huge _CRACK_ exploded where once there stood demons. Not even bones were left, and the structure they’d been occupying had been completely annihilated. Khadgar peered over the cliff, into the crater.

“Oops.”

The Illidari cheered and jumped off the cliff, gliding down towards the crater where Allari was going to take the floating demon souls and use them to open a portal. Modera was astounded, and turned slack-jawed to Khadgar. Khadgar smiled softly at her.

“Guardian.” He said, pointing his thumb towards his chest. “It’s what I do.” And then he was gone, flying after the Illidari on ebony wings. Modera had no choice but to jump and cast a simple slow fall on herself, swimming through the air to reach the others. Having seen Khadgar’s strength in an admittedly one-sided battle, she found her doubts lessening and her fears rising. If he ever turned against the Kirin Tor… everyone would die. Yet his body was mortal, and Modera took note of that. She watched Allari wander around with her scythe glowing purple.

“The portal framework has been destroyed.” Allari remarked. “But I can still fix us a good set of coordinates to get up there.” She pointed, and the Illidari nodded. Khadgar and Modera couldn’t see shit. “Just a moment…” She waved the Scythe of Souls around in some complex, graceful patterns and said something in Demonic. A sudden green swirl of energy appeared as the souls managed to open a rift.

“Right, then.” Kayn stepped forwards. “Everybody in.”

Modera hesitated, but Khadgar grabbed her by the hand and pulled her in first. The Illidari followed, and soon everyone was on the huge floating ship in the sky, surrounded by thick black clouds and crackling green lightning. The fel here was choking Modera’s own grasp on the arcane, so strongly corrupting it was. The ship was also manned by a few demons, who turned to the newcomers shocked and enraged.

“Die, interlopers!” roared the nearest Terrorguard, beginning to cast a life draining spell that would wither everyone’s bodies to dust.

“Not today.” said Khadgar, and took a single step forwards. White energy shot from the tip of Atiesh and lanced through the demon’s chest, scouring the inside of the ship and burning all the little imps that were running around. He lead the attack into the depths of the ship and found a few tough demons thrice his own height. The Illidari dashed straight for them, and Modera shot icicles at the demons as if practising her aim. Khadgar turned to see a small archway through which a dark room was visible. Something glinted in there, moving.

“Shalaros!” cried Khadgar, and the power of his incantation lit up the inside of the room along with the demon inside it. Inquisitor Tivos howled at having a piece of his leg destroyed, and the sound disoriented the Illidari. Khadgar gathered his energy, waiting for the Dreadlord to come out. Modera was frozen where she stood, watching him. Tivos began curling his blackened, clawed fingers in repeated patterns, and dark purple circles appeared on the floor. They continued to multiply and Khadgar jumped back just as one exploded before his feet. Chaos damage knocked everyone into the air and the circles became portals, summoning scores of Shadowflame imps. In 1.5 seconds Tivos had also called up eyes that projected fel beams in spinning circles, and Jace cried out as one caught him in the back. The scent of seared flesh rose in the shadow-choked air. Khadgar was trying to keep his spells under control but in battle, he tended to think fast and cast whatever he liked. He couldn’t see anything other than felfire, glowing eyes and felt an acute sense of horror wash over him.

“Ta’kal!” He shouted, forming an enormous blue dome that pushed the walls of the ship outwards. The imps were pushed back but so were the Illidari, until Khadgar modified the shield to allow the demon hunters in. Anti-demon wards were finicky, when it came to anything fel-touched. Still, Modera was rooted to the spot, face contorted with fear. Khadgar tugged on her hair and she turned to him. His brows were furrowed in concentration and he ordered her to cast something. Modera tried, but the imps were screaming from outside the dome and Tivos was preparing an enormously powerful attack in his clenched hands. She could not concentrate. No energies came to her and with a gasp she realised that someone – or something – had counterspelled her. Every single one of her schools. She despaired, utterly lost without use of her magic. And then Tivos attacked.

“NHRGH!” Khadgar’s entire body rippled from the shock that his barrier absorbed. _‘Mmm, he’s powerful indeed. But I am stronger. I just… have to…’_ He saw Kayn throw his glaive and the thing embedded itself in Tivos’s robed midsection. Tivos pulled it out and threw it back at Kayn, narrowly missing the Illidari’s head. It clipped Allari’s horns and she fell on her face, only to get right back up and blast fel energy out of her eyes. Tivos cackled and absorbed it, shadows erupting around his monstrous form. He started draining Khadgar’s barrier and in turn, the life essence of the Guardian. Khadgar realized this and dispelled his barrier at once in a blast of natural flame. The imps became ash and the floating eyeballs were targeted by the speedy Illidari. Khadgar grit his teeth, aghast to find his strength leaving his body the longer Tivos channeled his spell.

 _“Kill him… KILL HIM…”_ Medivh’s voice thrummed in Khadgar’s head, and filled his mind with a spell derived of pure killing intent. Khadgar opened his eyes wide and cried out incoherently as he performed the biggest interrupt in mage history. He literally smacked the Fel out of Tivos with such a powerful wall of arcane that the Inquisitor found himself devoid of any and all magical ability. He had an ‘oh, shit’ look on his face as Belath jumped up and sliced his head off, sending him to the ground. Allari ripped out his soul and split it into shards for everyone to eat or utilize as they saw fit. Khadgar, breathing heavily, accepted the shard and slipped it into his pocket. The little purple sliver of demonic energy rested there and when Modera was given one, she refused. Allari shrugged and chewed on it. More power to the Illidari.

Khadgar straightened his back, leaning on Atiesh. He was at half strength now and felt a sense of gleeful exhilaration tingle throughout his body. The Illidari gathered near him and Modera.

“Nicely done.” said Kayn, holding the dust covered skull of the dead Inquisitor. “I’ve never seen magic like that before.”

“Well, now you have.” Khadgar grinned. “My, that was fun. Is anyone hurt?”

“Nothing a bit of soulstealing can’t fix.” Allari said, her sliver of Tivos’s soul having restored her health. The others agreed, and Khadgar spread his hands out.

“What now?”

“I say we get back and compile reports.” said Belath, walking to the ship’s deck. “And maybe see what we can do with that skull.”

“Alright.” Khadgar nodded. “I would like to test something, if you don’t mind.”

“Khadgar, no…” Modera reached out and tugged on Khadgar’s cloak. “You’ve done enough for today.”

“But I can do so much more.” he insisted, already gathering his energy. The Illidari could see an argument brewing and decided to leave via jumping off the deck and gliding into the distance. Modera watched them go, and then stepped back as Khadgar opened a portal to Dalaran. He gestured to her. “Go on.”

Modera shook her head. “No. Khadgar--”

“ _Guardian_ ,” he reminded her. “Goodness, do you make a habit out of disrespecting your betters?”

Modera stared. “ _What?_ ” There was that strange manner of speaking that sounded so unlike Khadgar, it was almost as if another controlled his voice. “Ugh, it doesn’t matter. What in the world was that spell you cast?”

Khadgar blinked, gently stroking the edges of his perfectly oval portal. “I’m not quite sure, really.”

“You – you’re not _sure_?” Modera spluttered, lifting up her hands. “That Dreadlord counterspelled me before I could even move. You destroyed him and you don’t even know what you did?”

“I am sorry, Modera.” said Khadgar, his aged, smooth voice sounding not in the slightest bit apologetic. “But I do not feel the need to explain myself to you. Now then, I have a demon ship to destroy. Farewell!” With a single hand he pushed Modera through the portal and closed it after him. He sighed.

 _‘Finally, some peace.’_ The ship was eerily silent, the clouds still and the fel lightning no longer present.

_“You know what to do, Young Trust. Levitate, blast and slow fall. That should do it.”_

_‘Sounds like a plan.’_ Khadgar first searched the ship for anything interesting and found nothing other than a lifeless orb through which Tivos had been scrying through. He levitated on the ship’s deck and raised Atiesh, pulling his good old arcane magic up to help him destroy the floating behemoth.

_‘Hmm… I wonder what would be a good incantation for this?’_

_“Make one up. You are the Guardian, you’re allowed to do that.”_

Excitement further fueled Khadgar’s spell, and he released it with a shout of _GET REKT!_ He could almost see Medivh rolling his eyes with a smile as the entire ship exploded and brilliant purple light gave rise to an arcane storm among the clouds. Khadgar easily slowed his fall to the ground and managed to land in the branches of a dead tree. Chill and surrounded by demons, he teleported back to Dalaran in five seconds. There, at Krasus’ Landing, he saw the Felbats everyone had ridden were safe and sound along with the Illidari, who were resting from their long flight up. Sometimes he wondered how much energy it took to use the wings on one’s back to fly, to support a strong body on such a brittle-seeming frame. Many Illidari had holes in their wings, too. Khadgar could zip around as a raven without tiring thanks to Atiesh. He took some time to check on the Illidari, and offered them conjured refreshments infused with mana. They accepted what he gave them with gratitude and respect.

_“I’m proud of you, Young Trust. You are turning out to be a better Guardian than I ever was.”_

Khadgar blushed, and felt as if he floated atop silver clouds, sustained by Medivh’s praise. He almost replied aloud, before remembering that only he could see and hear Medivh.

_‘Thank you, Master. I hope to honour your memory.’_

_“And forge a new name for yourself, too? You have exceeded my expectations and more. Soon, they will all kneel.”_

_‘That would be nice.’_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lel I wrote all four chapters in about eight hours hooOOOOOH my eyeballs hurt


End file.
